Page 16 of The Doctor's Twins

There would be no peace for me, so I got up and walked past him to get to the kitchen. Mateo grabbed my arm.

“What? No kiss for the man who works so hard for you?” he snickered and planted a wet, alcohol-infused kiss on my lips.

It took a lot of self-restraint not to vomit all over his expensive Italian shoes.

“Hi,” I said and pulled away from him. “I’ll make you something to eat,” I said, hoping that my soothing tone would pacify him.

“That’s my girl,” he slurred and slapped me on my ass. It stung like a mofo.

He followed me downstairs to the kitchen after he’d relieved himself.

“What did you do today, my love?” he asked me while I was cooking steak and eggs.

The man was crazy.My love?Honestly.

I was in two minds about whether I should remind him of the fact that I’d seen Dr. Mendes, and our baby, for the first time. Doing that could result in one of two outcomes. Either he’d continue his good mood, or he’d turn into a monster again and beat the snot out of me. What to do…

I was feeling particularly prickly, so I went for it.

“I saw our baby today,” I said defiantly.

Mateo’s face told me immediately that I’d flicked the lion’s nuts. He looked at me with daggers in his eyes.

“Your baby. Not mine,” he hissed.

Fucker! I lost my cool. I’d been trying for a very long time to go with the new flow, but something inside me snapped.

“When were you going to tell me that you were married before,my love?” I challenged the drunk man across the counter from me.

Mateo’s face was drained of color, but it didn’t stay that way for very long. By the time he opened his mouth to spew venom at me, my husband was beet red. I instinctively took a few steps back.

“Who told you that?” he barked.

“Does it matter? Is it true?”

I knew it was, but I wanted to hear Mateo say the words.

“I see you’ve been a busy little snoop. Yes. It’s true. What of it?”

“How could you not tell me, Mateo?”

“Because it’s none of your fucking business.”

“Are you serious? Who are they? Where are they?”

Mateo leaped across the counter like a madman. I tried to move out of his way, but he was surprisingly quick for a drunk man. He grabbed me by the hair and yanked my head back.

“Let go of me, you bastard!” I yelled at him.

“I've had enough of you, you stupid American bitch!” he snarled at me and slapped me across the face so hard I thought my left eye socket would explode.

I tried to protect my baby by wrapping my arms around my abdomen. Mateo grabbed my wrists and frog marched me toward the garage door. But, instead of going through to the garage door, he headed for a door that had been locked since the day I arrived at our proverbial love nest.

He fumbled with a set of keys in his pocket and pulled out one that fitted the lock. I tried in the meantime to break free from his iron grip, but it was useless. I was a ragdoll in my husband’s strong hands.

Once the door was unlocked, Mateo dragged me into an unknown space. He stopped and fumbled for the light switch. Then, as if I were a bag of unwanted goods, he threw me down a flight of stairs. I landed with a thud and blacked out almost as soon as I hit the ground.

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